


The Road To Forever

by leopoldjamesfitz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Forward your dentist bills to my secretary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 18:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopoldjamesfitz/pseuds/leopoldjamesfitz
Summary: “I think it’s time.” He says quietly, grabbing her hands as soon as he can reach them and holding them tightly in his.“What do you –” she stops herself, eyebrows dropping from where they’d been raised and a warm smile flushing away the confusion. “Oh. Okay, then. I agree.”





	The Road To Forever

**Author's Note:**

> For Team Engineering's The Fitz Wish List project. Wish #22 - Leave S.H.I.E.L.D. and settle down. Fair warning, this is some fluffy ass shit. Pinky promise.

It goes like this:

They’ve just completed the most recent mission, one of hundreds, and it’s just the two of them left in the lab. Everyone’s gone home, or back to their bunks. He can hardly believe that they’re allowed this kind of peace and quiet anymore.

It’s been just over a year since they’d returned from their prison in space of all things – he’s grown to realize that he’s beginning to hate that place more and more nearly every day. The mere mention of it makes him cringe and tense.

Jemma had once said to him that they might find something wonderful in space one day, something that wasn’t trying to kill them. Perhaps in a lot of ways that excursion in particularly had done just that, but Fitz likes to think that the only thing he found in space, other than a number of wild and potentially fascinating things, was her.

It seems so silly, he realizes, because she’d been the biggest support of his after the Framework. It wasn’t warranted, he thinks, because there were months afterwards that he would dream of holding a gun to her head and telling her that she meant nothing to him, only to wake up in a sweat and find himself unable to breathe.

Those nights were almost always when he’d find Jemma at his side, running her fingers through his growing hair and cradling his skull while pressing kisses along his forehead. He’d never ask how she knew how to be there when these things happened, but he always suspected it was the direct result of how loud he’d find himself screaming when he came to the surface.

Perhaps he hadn’t lost her in the ways that he had thought he had, but rather lost confidence in himself and thus assumed they went hand in hand. She had been happy to prove him wrong, but then again, she always had that about her.

“Jemma?” He turns, pushing all of these thoughts out of his mind and clearly catching her off guard given how much she jumps.

He bites back a smile as she turns toward him, a soft smile on her face as she catches his gaze. “Yes?” She asks quietly, lifting her eyebrows. She drops her hands from the keyboard and makes a step toward him. He moves toward her, too, abandoning the half-project he’d mostly formed out of boredom.

“I think it’s time.” He says quietly, grabbing her hands as soon as he can reach them and holding them tightly in his.

“What do you –” she stops herself, eyebrows dropping from where they’d been raised and a warm smile flushing away the confusion. “ _Oh_. Okay, then. I agree.”

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, in reality, it’s not that simple.

It goes more like this:

They’re fifteen steps off of the ship that had brought them home and there’s a crowd of people waiting for them, but the only person he can look at is her.

Their parents are there, her Mum and Dad and his Mum, and they manage to separate the other for more than a handful of minutes, long enough to get a quick hug in and they’re pressed back together again.

Neither of them will tell their parents about the journey that lead them into bloody space of all things, but it doesn’t really matter all that much. The reality of their lives is much too troubling for them to fully admit much of it to their parents anyway.

S.H.I.E.L.D. has been forgiven, all things considered, and the team relieved of any charges that might’ve been pending. General Talbot issues an apology on behalf of the United States Government and they’re all free – at least until Monday.

Fitz holds Simmons the entire way to that same diner that they had been captured at months before, ignoring the knowing smiles their parents have or the cajoling from Daisy in the seat beside him. With her head in the crook of his neck, he can just barely hear her whisper, “let’s go home.”

It’s not the right time, either of them realize, with it being Thursday and plane tickets costing more than either of them have at that moment, but it’s a nice thought.

Promises of the future after the hell they’ve endured makes her feel warm inside, because the one thing that she feared the most after resurfacing from the Framework hell and being immediately sucked up into that place was that she would somehow lose him along the way.

They were always better together, their combined intelligence and work ethic something that inspired those around them. But the Framework had been meant to shatter and destroy them. Cut them down.

If anything, everything that happened had only brought them close together.

Squeezing her tighter, he presses a kiss to the top of her head and tells her, “one day.”

He’s never meant something so simple before.

 

* * *

 

 

Going back to work at S.H.I.E.L.D. leaves a weird taste in their mouths. They are not completely aware of why, because it’s home, it’s their work, it’s their life.

They had spent months before now wishing that life could go back to this moment, and now that it was, there was almost some level of regret in the air.

One night, after a particularly long day of helping put the organization back together, they both fall in bed almost simultaneously. It’s a nice thing, she thinks, because they haven’t had enough of that since they’d come back. Either she was off helping the newly appointed Director Coulson in many of the same ways she helped Director Mace before, or he was in the lab, trying to put together the remains of that. Falling asleep together seems like a small miracle. The entire base hasn’t yet seen renovations, but with a dry bank account, it’s not looking to happen anytime soon.

They’re lucky, really, that they were able to get back into their own bank accounts, and that the U.S. Government hadn’t run them dry in the aftermath of their supposed disappearance in the face of all of the charges that had been laid. (Of course, she thinks, it’s possible that they did do that and had slipped it back in discreetly once they’d realized that it was a kidnapping, not a runaway case.)

Fitz looks tired, but she supposes that she does, too. They’re all going through a lot lately. It’s been only a few weeks since they’ve come home, and she can’t help but think that it will forever feel this exhausting as long as there’s days like this to come.

And there will be many days like this to come.

His arm sneaks underneath her and around her, the other hand resting on her waist as he pulls her across the bed and into his chest. Neither of them have even undressed from their day, or showered even, and she wrinkles her nose at the smell, because it’s so unlike anything that she’s used to from him, but she doesn’t dare pull away. It offers to much comfort in that moment.

“We won’t be here forever, will we?” He asks quietly, making her breath catch in her throat as he says it. There’s a glimmer of hope in his tone that she latches onto; one that equally makes her heart lurch in her chest. It’s been two weeks since she spoke to him, half tired, half in a daze, about going ‘home’ and it’s been on her mind ever since.

She should have expected it would have been on his as well.

“I mean,” he says again, taking her silence as a bad thing and she sits up slowly, just as he’s grasping on how to rephrase his sentence. “S.H.I.E.L.D. – it can’t be our forever.”

Gently, she reaches over and cradles his face in her hand, shaking her head as a small smile turns up on the edges of her cheeks. “Of course not, Fitz.” She whispers, like it’s a secret to be kept. Perhaps it is. “One day, we’ll find some oasis and we’ll go there and... find happiness.”

He smiled, moving to cover her hand with his as she leans toward him. Before their lips brush, she can hear his soft whisper of, “one day” and it’s somehow the most comforting thing she’s heard yet.

One day seems like not so far away.

 

* * *

 

 

A few months pass before she begins to think that there’s a such thing as a break. The Playground loses most of it’s destruction. They put a good portion of it together and slowly, but surely, S.H.I.E.L.D. rises from the wreckage like a proverbial phoenix.

Returning back to the lab for the first time in it’s running order is mystifying in a lot of ways. Fitz had been behind most of the reconstruction, working avidly with the construction crew despite lacking the finesse that was required by most construction workers and carpenters. Fitz made wonders with his hands, but unfortunately, his expertise was better brought in for designs.

Or so that’s what he said.

Jemma, on the other hand, hadn’t been given a similar privilege. She’d been in the lab, sure, but only brief glimpses before Coulson or someone else would require her ‘expertise’. She’d forgotten how to say no, clearly, but they were all doing their best to put everything back together, even if that meant putting in some hours on things that weren’t necessarily their fields of expertise in the first.

Of course, Jemma excelled at preparation, so naturally things like the backbones of S.H.I.E.L.D. as a company came easy to her. She supposed in a lot of ways that was why they desired her input as much.

Plus, she had two PhD’s, one of which she mostly did for fun. Mostly.

The first step into the lab after everything, though, it was breathtaking. It was everything she’d remembered and yet nothing at the same time. Jemma wasn’t quite sure how that could have been possible, but she was hardly complaining. The new lab was almost their lab, something that had been Fitz’s problem with the old one in the first place. She liked it a lot, but more so because this was intended to be their place.

While the both of them had seen their fair share of field work over the course of their years working under Coulson’s directive, they both yearned to be back in the lab. At least they were both going to be Co-Heads of the Science Division again, after more or less sharing that role over the past few years.

“God,” she whispered into the empty space. She wasn’t technically supposed to be here, she assumed, giving the level of caution tape that was lying around the main area.

It was finished, but the foreman in the morning had to give the final say, of course. Given that the base had been exploded, naturally there were some infrastructure worries. (Those had been the first to be mended, of course, which is why they felt safe to be there.)

“It really is something,” Fitz says behind her, and she thinks if they get caught she’ll blame it on him, because he’s the one who hauled her out there in her pyjamas in the first place. Everyone’s likely just as exhausted as they are, though, so she doesn’t think they’ll have any worries about being interrupted anytime soon.

“It’s wonderful, Fitz.” She turns toward him, feeling his hand reach out and rest on the small of her back as she beams in his direction. He beams, too, but she thinks its just because she is. He’s a sap like that. “You did an amazing job.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pulls her tight against him and lets out a soft laugh as she snickers. “Like I didn’t have a step-by-step list of what to do and how to do it.” He whispers against her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Jemma places her hand against his chest, pulling back to meet his gaze. It’s mischievous and slightly playful, both of which she welcomes in this time of life. She pretends to be affronted, eyes wide and mouth bowed open slightly. “I thought you liked my comprehensive lists?”

Fitz presses his lips together, nodding his head lightly as he does so. “Oh, I _love_ your comprehensive lists. I just don’t think they did.”

She’s laughing as she presses their lips together, in the new lab that was built just for them. When she pulls away, she lays their heads together and sighs. “The lab we build in our home won’t be half as nice.”

Fitz laughs quietly at that, because she is right, of course. “Maybe _we_ should go and do something partially unforgivable but make the US government look bad in the meantime so that we can get them to fund our lab, too.”

Nudging his other shoulder with her hand, she gasps softly, barely fighting back the laughter sliding up her own throat. “Oh, hush you.”

Fitz wraps both of his arms around her, squeezing her to his chest as he beams again, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “One day, I’ll build you a big lab out of the garage, and if we don’t have a garage, I’ll build you one and then build you a lab in it. Just to your specifications and all that nonsense, because I know everything has an order with you. It’ll just be ours – no one else’s. Sound alright?”

Jemma sighs happily at his description, nodding as she buries her face into the crook of his neck and wraps her arms around his middle. “One day,” she agrees quietly, humming gently.

 

* * *

 

 

When it comes down to it, she thinks, the move is the easiest part about their journey.

Not what comes with it: saying goodbye to the team, the people who became family in the past few years; saying goodbye to the home that has been theirs since Hydra fell. That isn’t easy at all, but there’s always a promise of a future where they’ll be able to visit.

The promises are something that Jemma swears that she will make sure come to fruition. After everything they’ve been through, the bonds they have formed with the people they worked with are the most vital and something as silly as an ocean won’t be the thing to tear them apart.

It’s like a dream come true, everything they’ve been working toward, the moment they pull up to the mid-sized cottage that, with the help of not having to pay housing fees for the last several years, helped them buy.

It’s not the one that she saw when she was a girl, but it’s even better than that. It’s theirs.

There’s definitely a lot of work left to do to it; there is a garage, but it’s seen better days. Most of the rooms, according to the pictures they’d seen, would need a fresh coat of paint and the exterior as well. Yet, with all of it’s shortcomings, Jemma and Fitz can’t find one thing they don’t absolutely adore about the place.

It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t have to be either. The perfection will come in time, with the minor repairs they have to do, a nice fence around the property to help keep any potential future animals in, and perhaps a couple of kids to help fill the silence.

The future was unknown and for once, that wasn’t scary at all.

Forgoing their luggage and belongings in the car, they both run hand-in-hand through the rain storm that started on their way from the airport, laughing and screaming. It hardly seems like the perfect way to start the rest of their life, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

They stand in the porch, dripping from the rain and fall into one another after a moment. It hardly seems an issue with them getting the other wet, not that it would stop them, she thinks.

They’ve been waiting for this moment for so long now and now it’s in their grasp. It’s perfect.

They fall together like magnets, mouths colliding before either of them can think of anything to say. Her fingers run through his newly cropped locks, while his hands cradle the small of her back and her gently.

When they break apart moments later, their foreheads brush together and happy sighs fall between them.

“Jemma,” he begins, his voice raspy from disuse. It sends a tingle up her spine and leaves her grinning widely. “Your hands are still freezing.”

His comment causes her to laugh uproariously, falling into him more, if that was at all possible, as she pulls back, intentionally dipping the tips of her fingers underneath his collar. He shivers in response, pursing his lips into a pout.

“You've proven to me once or twice before that you can brave that, lion man.” She whispers affectionately, rubbing her nose against his.

It's his turn to laugh, and she can't ignore the wrinkle of his nose at her pet name - they've often strayed away from them just because it seemed too childish, though this one works, arguably.

Jemma thinks he might argue with her, perhaps just for the sake of arguing, but instead he lays one hand flat on the small of her back and the other against her cheek as he pulls her closer to him until their lips meet once more.

They don't venture throughout the rest of their home this evening; however, they do become extremely acquainted with their bedroom.

It's hardly the beginning of their new life that either of them could have planned, but it's one that neither of them can find themselves complaining about.

 

* * *

 

 

It goes like this:

A hand slithers across and shakes him awake; though he knows that it’s his wife, it still makes him jump. Even after all of these years. “ _Fitz_.” Her voice is insistent, and his brain really can’t keep up with all of this nonsense. He tries anyway.

“Wha?” His voice is practically nonexistent, scratchy from sleep and even through bleary eyes, he thinks that he can tell she’s rolling hers at him.

“It’s time.” She says, in that same insistent voice and really, he’s not sure why she’s asking about the time at all. It’s dark enough in their room for him to know it’s not day time.

“The time?” He asks, throwing his head over his shoulder. There’s a thought in his mind that she has a clock on her side of the bed as well, but perhaps she can’t read it quite as well as she used to, their child acting as an anchor more than usual lately. “S’3:04, s’too early to be awake.” He announces, and then promptly dives his head back into his pillow.

He’s not given a moment’s rest before Jemma’s hand is on his shoulder, shaking it furiously. “ _Fitz_.” She says, in that same insistent tone but he’s already beginning to fall asleep again before she even realizes.

“ _Leo_.” She tries again, making him huff softly. Fitz pops one eye open and looks at her quietly, irritating flowing through his frame at being woken so early. “I think it’s _time_.”

“What do you –” he stops himself suddenly, pressing up and glancing between her and the bump, his eyes growing wider despite how sleepy he’d just been moments ago.

“ _Oh_.” He echoes quietly, gaping as his gaze darts around the room before falling back on her. “Okay then, let’s go have a baby.”

 

* * *

 

 

At 12:32pm, August 19th, there is silence. And then a loud scream. Imogene Skye comes tumbling into the world with a full head of hair and a set of lungs that would put a church choir to shame.

She's so tiny, but not underweight. Both of them make sure the Doctors and Nurses check and re-check for any abnormalities. Thankfully, there are none.

The first time she settles down with him, really the first time - not the brief glimpse of a moment he had carrying her back from where they'd weighed her before she'd been laid back into Jemma's arms - he's in awe.

It feels like all of his breath has been knocked out of him at once and he's filled with a surge of what he can only describe as love.

"Happy Birthday," Jemma murmurs after a long moment of silence, startling him. In all the commotion, the two of them hadn't even realized the date.

Hearing that his daughter had been born on August 19th hadn't even brought him back to the realization, too keen on her very existence.

He turns toward her and he might be crying (he is) but to be fair, so is she. He doesn't think there has been a dry eye in the room since she came onto this earth. He smiles, a small movement of appreciation.

"You're gonna find it hard topping this birthday next year," he says absently, after a beat, and grins as she laughs abruptly, startling the near-sleeping babe in her father’s arms.

Jemma sits up as carefully as possible, still sore from today, and gently places her hand on the baby's belly, soothing her gently. "I'm sure Emmy and I will figure something out." She murmured, smirking gently up at him.

She leans into him then, laying her cheek against his shoulder as they both stare down at their daughter, wonderment and love shining in both of their eyes.

Normally, he'd shift, wrap his arm around her and bring her into the little bubble they've formed, but a part of him is so immensely terrified of hurting this little girl - though he knows he would never - that he stays completely still. Jemma doesn't seem to mind anyway.

"After all," she continues after a moment, leaning her head against his shoulder and allowing Emmy to grab onto her index finger and just hold it. He didn't think his heart could burst until this moment, and he won't let Jemma's talk about anatomical know-how tell him different, because it certainly feels that way now. "We'll have two birthdays to celebrate this time next year."

The promise of a future had once been so unknown to them both. But this, a future with this tiny human that's both his and hers and the dog he's still working her up to get, (because the best time to introduce a dog to the family is when a baby's still young and they can grow and bond together) sounds like the best kind of future that he could have ever imagined.

"Yeah," he whispers gently, lifting his gaze away from their daughter to meet hers.

She's so beautiful, but he knows if he tells her that she'll prattle on about how sweaty she is or the disarray slash birds nest that is her hair, so he suffices to brush his lips along the crown of her head.

Jemma sighs gently, the edges of her lips pulling up into a gentle smile. "I love you," he tells her honestly, pulling away and allowing his attention to divert back to the yawning babe, too much love for the two women in his life, and yet somehow, not enough. "Both of you."

"We love you too," Jemma promises, kissing the corner of his jaw and smiling as she wraps her arms around his and turns back toward Imogene, unable to stop herself from staring. "Happy Birthday, Fitz," she repeats again, leaning back against his shoulder with a soft sigh.

"The happiest yet." He decides immediately, struck with the realization of how true it was. It doesn’t seem right, he thinks, for them to be this unconditionally happy with everything that has gone on between them, but he’s hardly one to complain about the universe finally giving back to them.

He beams then, just as their daughter peels her eyes open briefly before making a soft whining sound and closing them again. He's never felt such inhibited love before in his life. It's all so intense.

And yet, he wouldn't change it for the world.


End file.
